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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24391855">Life Preserver</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/'>Anonymous</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Coco (2017)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Depression, Gen, Heavy - Freeform, Motivational, Second Person, Suicidal Thoughts</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-05-26</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-05-26</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-04 03:01:39</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,272</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24391855</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
      <p>Based on a reoccurring dream I have... </p><p>Shared if only because it could be something someone else needs to hear... but mind you... it's not beating around the bush here.</p>
    </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>7</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>Anonymous</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Life Preserver</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Based on a reoccurring dream I have... </p><p>Shared if only because it could be something someone else needs to hear... but mind you... it's not beating around the bush here.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Just one more day...” it trails off, falling into the air and you lean back. Staring up at the sky, around you, there’s a marigold golden glow. You’re not quite dead, not yet. Behind you stands you house. Behind you, your body rests, sleeping soundly for the night. Sleeping.</p><p>This is a dream.</p><p>Except that at the same time it’s more real than anything else. You close their eyes, tilting your head back and you take a deep breath. Feeling the wind as it sways your hair and strokes over your face. Just barely brushing over your skin, a soft tickle, a small sensation. Something so small and subtle.</p><p>And in the distance there’s music, the glow of lights, and the tinkling of a wind chime. A whisper leaves your mouth, barely a breath. Barely-</p><p>“Back again are we?”</p><p>“Hola Héctor--“ the name is like the first breath of air from your lips. Hanging and holding in the air as you barely spare a glance to the figure that you know is there. That you know stands watching and worrying. You don’t-- you can’t look at him, instead looking down at your hands. Glowing with an overlay and if you squint you could almost see your skeleton though them.</p><p>One more day.</p><p>One more night.</p><p>But each time you are here. Each time you see those pale bones outlined beneath that glow, you feel-- more whole than you are awake.</p><p>“I... was beginning to think that you had abandoned me..” the words are little more than a whisper. A curl on the breeze as you close your eyes. Hands curling up and teeth gritting together. But no-- he wouldn’t do that. Not after so long, constant. This dream this place. “I just--“</p><p>You take a breath, opening your eyes and turning them to the sky. It’s almost alien, lit up with stars and the moon watching down, full and bright. Radiant. Such a sight is rare, a clear sky, stars shining brighter than the lights around you. A hand reaches out and-- you wonder, not for the first time how it would feel to be up there.</p><p>“You’re doing it again”</p><p>You wince at the words, pulling the hand back and curling it around yourself. Abruptly cold, those thoughts spinning through your mind. So heavy, so loud, and acutely aware of how close he has come. That Héctor is right there. Settling himself beside you and if you just turn, if you open your mouth and <em>talk</em>.</p><p>“No...” you deny it, eyes still up in the sky. Not looking at him. Not seeking that crimson tinged worry filled gaze. You can’t face him, face those eyes, and that reassurance that you know that you don’t deserve. Not when--</p><p>“Hey-- Hey!“ you flinch at the gentle hand that touches down. Shying back and away with a grimace. “Hush, hush.” he soothes and you finally look at him. Look at those cherry-ripe eyes, softened in your direction and--</p><p>“This isn’t real. You’re not real!” you yank yourself away, turning your back to the skeleton and looking down. Kicking at the pebbles and dust beneath your feet before looking back up into the sky. Looking back to the moon, and suddenly your cold again, shivering and clutching your pyjamas tight. “None of this-- This is a dream. A stupid fantasy!“</p><p>“Calmarse, calmase. Now you’re being irrational,” he sucks in a breath and you close your eyes shaking your head. “Por favor, why do you keep doing this to yourself? Thinking--“</p><p>“Because it feels like no one would care” your words are quiet, soft, and you feel like you have released a weight, leaning back and closing your eyes. “It’s... all so heavy. And those thoughts are so loud.”</p><p>“Ay... but--“</p><p> “The pain tells me I’m still here.” you lift your head. And close your eyes, letting the breeze play with your hair. The lightness across your face and-- it’s like you’re alone again, and hearing those voices, that rage, the pain. The hand squeezing in your chest and around your throat.</p><p>It’s... almost companionable.</p><p>It’s almost comfortable as you open your eyes back up. Knowing that Héctor is just-- the form your subconscious has taken.</p><p>“You ever wonder--“</p><p>“Wonder what?” You bite your lip, finally turning to him, mouth drawn.</p><p>“Do you ever wonder why you’re here?”</p><p> “Qué?”</p><p>“I mean... here... doing this, helping me. We’re from such different worlds. Almost completely different worlds really. Different times, different cultures... and it’s just...” you trail off. Eyes closing and you shiver, abruptly cold. The gentle breeze no longer soothing, Héctor moves closer to you, something soft in his eyes and you look away. Deep in your belly there’s a stone, a rock and it solidly sits there. You don’t feel right to be here.</p><p>Surrounded by the marigold glow, even over your own skin. With Héctor sitting by your side offering gentle reassurances and a smile that’s too soft.</p><p>You don’t deserve this. You’re nothing and--</p><p>“You’re doing it again!”</p><p>“No I’m not.” your voice is soft, once more barely a breath. An argument that tastes like ash on your tongue, and you don’t need to look to see that the skeleton beside you is frowning. Frowning because he disapproves of those thoughts. “I’m not because I didn’t stop doing it...”</p><p>He disapproves, but he doesn’t know. Can’t know the true depth of these thoughts. And yet, the words are so close right there, and even if Héctor is a dream, the only friend that you feel is real aside them-- a fictional character who you keep dreaming about he’s...</p><p>“It just... hurts” you eventually say, remembering it starkly. Just in the middle of an otherwise happy enough day and then-- it was gone, ripped and torn away as if nothing. And the explanation of why, it still feels. “Just another reminder-- that you and them-- are the only real ones I can find solace in”</p><p>“Dios mio, don’t you talk to--“</p><p>“Of course I have!” you give a small almost teasing push to him and let out a bitter laugh. Before looking back to the moon. Feeling the moonlight on your skin, even beyond the marigold glow. “But-- it’s just that sense of rejection, that sense of heaviness and--“ <em>nobody cares, nobody wants you, you can’t...</em></p><p>“It’s not true, and now you’re thinking irrationally!”</p><p>“Of course I’m thinking irrationally! I want to <em>die!” </em>You whirl on him, immediately after you suck in a breath. Pulling back and away from the sheer horror in his expression. But the words lift that weight of shackles up and away. “I want... I want the pain to stop, to go away. Nobody cares. Nobody feels like they care, even the ones I do talk to. And I royally messed that up!” you feel a heat and a burning.</p><p>Turning away you address the moon, you can’t look at Héctor. You can’t seek his solace, the solace from a dream. Not even he really cares, after all, he’s not real, this place.</p><p>“I mean, okay I get it. Some things are hard, but-- it’s another rejection when you try to help and-- and-- and then-- And I messed it up. And then our circle, it just feels empty, like it’s real, but--“ they don’t really care or know. It’s all too heavy for them. “It’s... how we express trauma and explore and process right?”</p><p>“Sí but--“</p><p>“But-- But-- Oh it just hurts. I finally thought I had found a place where I could <em>belong. </em>I finally felt--“ but that was a lie as well. That was always going to be a lie. <em>Nobody liked you, go away</em>! “And my family... all the pressure, the wants, the needs, and I <em>can’t be what they want! </em>I’ll never be that. Sometimes, I wish I could be a child again, oblivious and happy, the worst problem being bullies at school.” <em>Nobody wants you, germ-lock, missing your schoolbag again? </em>“But-- but-- that wouldn’t fix it... and then it’s just <em>death </em>you know. It’s supposed to be a big fat <em>nothing, </em>the longest sleep, and that’s... that’s what sounds attractive. A sleep. Rest. No more of this! No more pain, no more rejection, or loneliness even in the middle of a crowd.”</p><p>No more-- no more-- you pant, and slump back down, looking down at your hands. At the bones beneath the glow and just breathing for a moment. All those thoughts spinning, the pain and the hurt and the rejection. The fact that you just feel.</p><p>“I-- I--“ you suck in a single breath, closing your eyes. “Even you-- you don’t... you don’t know my name, at all.”</p><p>“I--“</p><p>“No... you wouldn’t... not in this dream. A false comfort!” and you open your eyes back up, staring. “There’s an overpass not that far, a bridge I cross so often-- and almost every time-- it would be so easy. It would be-- or the knives, or tonight... I was in the bath, and if I just rolled onto my belly-- it wouldn’t hurt right?” you pause, remembering what someone else had said. Like falling asleep. Drowning was like falling asleep. “Or why not overdose on medication?”</p><p>“But there are-- no. It’s not people that matters is it.”</p><p>“You know all of what I know!</p><p>“But even so, there would <em>always </em>be people who cared. But don’t stay for them, stay for what you haven’t done! You write!”</p><p>“I do!”</p><p>“You draw!”</p><p>“Yes!”</p><p>“You are a creator and there are so many things to discover, to create! You can get a job you want right?”</p><p>“Maybe” you look away, and there are so many dreams you could have. So many jobs and potential futures.</p><p>“And-- if you die, wouldn’t it be letting them win?” You still, hands squeezing themselves into fists. Teeth gritting together as you snap around to him. To Héctor where he stands and gives you a grin that flashes his gold tooth. “I mean really. Who wins if you die, all those who called you those things!”</p><p>“And you would know, Mr. Never Gives up for a Century!”</p><p>“Hey! If I could keep trying to cross a Dumb Flower Bridge you can do this!”</p><p>“I think that there’s a bit of a difference there Héctor.” before you sigh and just take a deep breath, “I still want to die though. Still have these--” You cut off curling your hands, squeezing your eyes and grinding your teeth. Just press so tightly that it hurts. "It's-- so easy. It could be-- drink bleach, go jump off the bridge or overpass-- suffocate under blankets-- or turn up the heat and hope--"</p><p>"But don’t you have--"</p><p>"I know-- And-- it's one of the few-- the only--" You stop, looking down once more at folded hands. Beyond down to the ground, almost wishing you could fall, collapse and just-- you want the world to hear you scream. But that's terrifying as well. "I have so little-- a story, a pet-- and what else..."</p><p>You turn and look back, look down at the marigold glow of a phantom path. But up and it's looking back towards the house. Towards where you sleep, where your family, your life is, and slowly you smile. Almost wistful and twisted.</p><p>"What else--" There’s a period of silence, and the smile drops.</p><p> “Well, I am here to listen, to motivate you to hold on. Just--“ He takes a breath and you know, mouthing along “Another day, another night, one more breathe to live, to see another light!” and you’ve heard it from so many of your favourite characters. In these dreams, in these places. Whatever the form your subconscious chooses to take.</p><p>But you still feel like you’re drowning, like you’re empty inside.</p><p>Another Day.</p><p>Another Night.</p><p>You close your eyes, and for a moment stretch out, just basking in that thought, and thinking.</p><p>“Remember. You die, you quit, and <em>they </em>win!” his voice is firm. “The ones mocking and teasing. Rejecting you over one thing and telling you it’s a completely other. They can only hurtle words, you’re hurt, but stand up. Tall and proud, take a deep breath and--“</p><p>“Let it all out!” you cut across, releasing your breath and looking at him. And it’s truly left you feeling lighter as you stand.</p><p>“Just find that strength. Hold it and believe in it!” he rests a hand on your shoulder and you feel all that strength and will. The drive that gave him the ability to in the 96 odd years he was experiencing constant failure he kept going. That drive, that burning will in his eyes and you can feel it in your own bones.</p><p>If he can do it.</p><p>If <em>they </em>can do it.</p><p>“We’ll always be here. Coming back, to talk, to encourage. To look through.” he lets out a flash of a grin. “And hey, if my talking hasn’t helped, maybe I should let Imelda come!” and you bark out a startled laugh at the thought. Imelda no-nonsense scolding you for dwelling on these thoughts, in this place. And it’s enough to draw a smile, even as Héctor softens, and he wraps you up into a hug.</p><p>Just holding you.</p><p>“You are stronger than you know!” he says and you can feel the slip. The beginning of the slide out of this place. “You are stronger, and you’ll win!” And your eyes open, a familiar room, a familiar place.</p><p>The dream still lingering. You stretch out, blinking and rubbing your eyes before you mouth those familiar words.</p><p>“One more day, one more night!”</p><p>You can win this fight.</p>
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